Earth's Mightiest Hero's
by Team Alpha Wolf Squadron
Summary: Thomas Wayne killed his parents but left Bruce alive. Growing up wasn't easy and less easy when his brother decides he needs to learn to be grateful. Trapped with other rebels he tries to come up with a plan to trump his brother once and for all. Superbat
1. Chapter 1

They were walking out of the cinema after their father had taken them to see the Mark of Zorro again.

"It's a good movie," He defended to their mother.

"I liked it," Bruce agreed "All that action and the fact he wears a cool mask," He tried to perform some of the moves with an imaginary sword. The effect comical until Thomas joined in.

"It was alright," His brother said parrying an imaginary blow from Bruce.

"Sure," His father intoned ruffling Thomas' hair.

Their father and mother walked ahead to try and hail a cab. The walk leading them into a dark alley before opening out onto the main street meant that Thomas and Bruce had to call a truce for the time being.

"Did you like the movie?" Thomas inquired. His steely blue gaze trained on every reaction Bruce made.

"Yeah," He repeated and made to skip up to their parents when Thomas stopped him with a hand to his arm.

"You know we can go see it again," He offered.

Bruce furrowed his brow "We've seen it twice already. Why don't we wait until tomorrow. Dad can take us again," He suggested eagerly.

His brother shrugged but didn't let go of his arm "When he isn't busy I guess. But if we went again now-"

"Boys," They looked to see their parents encompassed by shadows and hurried to keep up.

"Dad will take us again," Bruce promised.

Thomas didn't look convinced but let Bruce swing their joined hands back and forth as their parents told them to cross the street. No cab in sight they had to walk another couple of blocks and hope that a cab would stop for them.

One made to when Thomas tore away from Bruce's grasp to shout "Look!" excitedly in between two blocks of flats.

"Thomas!" His father went after him as his mother tried to get the cab to stay. But two minutes passed and then another five and still no sign of Thomas and his father. The cab driver eventually got fed up of waiting and drove off to leave Bruce and his mother stranded on the pavement.

"Honestly," she sighed and took Bruce's hand to go after her errant husband and son.

It wasn't far they walked between street lamps before they saw two shadows of a father and son standing at gunpoint. His mother screamed and the man took off when he saw her going for her phone.

The shock gone she rushed to his father and clutched Thomas to her who squirmed out of her grasp and made towards Bruce.

"Are you alright?" There wasn't a scratch on his brother but things like this still left people shaken. His father had been stabbed once and the trauma took longer to overcome than the injury itself.

"No," Thomas spat and dragged Bruce into the alley with him. He completely ignored his worried parents to stand where the man had before. Reaching for something dropped on the pavement he pushed Bruce to the side. "I can't believe you messed up your own murder. Things would have been so much cleaner," The man had dropped his gun. The gun Thomas was now holding and pointing at their parents.

Sensing their danger their father stepped in front of their mother and tried to reason with Thomas "Tommy put the gun down. This isn't a game."

"Of course it isn't a game!" He cocked the gun sending his father back a few steps "You had one job. One! But then mother couldn't keep herself from ruining it, like she ruins everything. Well no longer. From now on it's going to be me and Bruce."

"Tommy," He heard his own small voice trying to reach out to his brother. "What are you doing?"

His brother abandoned their parents for the moment to turn to him "I'm doing what needs to be done. Believe me we'll be better off without them."

"Thomas no!" While Thomas had been preoccupied their father had made a grab for the gun.

His mother's screech was all he heard before gun shots sounded and his brother pushed him onto the pavement.

He woke with bright lights obscuring his vision and a warm lap under his head. He tried sitting up and had to lie back down as a large bump made itself known. Turning his head was easier and as his eyes adjusted to the street he saw a queue of people behind yellow tape and even more shining bright lights into the alley.

He heard someone vaguely and waited until the fuzziness went out of his ears before focusing on his brother's familiar voice.

"... the man came back and finished the job. I-I only did it as a prank. I swear," he was sobbing and moving Bruce's head each time he inhaled.

"Are you sure that's what happened?" There was a man sitting next to them and gave Bruce a sad look as he turned to his brother to confirm what had happened.

"Of course that's what happened! I wouldn't have actually shot them! They were just... Bruce and I just wanted some time with them. They never have any time for us," His limbs felt heavy as he made to sit up again. He steadied himself by using Thomas as a crutch and used that as well to comfort him.

His mind was still grey and taking a while to remember how he had fallen over. They had been coming back from the cinema "Bruce?" He looked up to meet the man's gaze. "Hello, my name is detective Gordon. There's been a... well I'm gonna need you to tell me what you remember."

"Remember?" He held his hand to his bump. It wasn't helping things "We... went to go see Zorro again. Dad couldn't find a cab so we had to walk a couple of blocks until we found one. He wouldn't wait..."

"Why wouldn't he wait Bruce?" The man's tone was soft but his eyes were hard as they peered behind him to Thomas.

"Tommy ran off. Said he'd found something. What did you find?" He didn't remember finding out.

"I thought I saw a circus poster. I wanted to see if dad would take us," Thomas muttered between sobs.

"Then there was a guy, he had a gun," He remembered. Then Tommy took the gun and... A cold feeling dropped in the pit of his stomach. "Mom? Where's mom?" He looked around for her but there were too many people in the way.

Alfred came for them a couple of minutes later having to drag Bruce from the alley screaming. The next couple of days were filled with police visits and reporters lurking outside of their house. Alfred was forced to take custody of them which caused quite a stir in the newspapers. Bruce wasn't allowed to read them since Thomas said it was all bad and threw it in the fire.

The police visits stopped when Detective Gordon exhausted his questioning with Bruce "I didn't see anything." "I guess someone could have come back." "All I heard was gunshots. I didn't actually see it was Tommy."

His brother was subjected to some visits from the doctor and given psychiatric help with the trauma but other than that there was nothing more they could do to them. It would be some years later before Bruce finally had proof that Thomas had gotten away with murder. For now he was just left with an idea and a new fear of his brother.

"Are you coming out?" He ignored the knock at his door again for the tenth time "Bruce, you can't avoid me forever."

"I'm not avoiding you," He called. You scare me, was what he left out "I just need some alone time."

He heard a sigh and footsteps walking away. Alfred came later to tuck him in and left off at another cliffhanger in the Sherlock Holmes story they had taken to reading.

Everything came to a halt that night as he woke from another nightmare. The image of his father plastered in blood was replaced with a youthful double petting his hair.

"You were having a nightmare," His tone was soft but Bruce wondered how he could have ever thought those eyes were anything but soulless "It's okay. I get them too." He was beginning to wonder if he was next on Thomas' list when a spark came into those eyes. He looked lovingly at Bruce "I'd never hurt you. You know that right?" The promise seemed real but the unspoken one between parent and child had seemed real too. Still he nodded, this was Tommy. His brother and Bruce figured that if he was going to be killed it would be better for it to happen whilst he still believed in his family. "Good. I'll always be here for you." He snuggled down into the sheets.

The first year went by surprisingly fast. It was soon Bruce's tenth birthday and then Thomas' twelfth. With the new year the hurt hadn't went away. If anything it had boiled into a simmering rage against his brother. One he tried to fight against at every opportunity but let out when he was alone.

Thomas took an interest in their family's business after Alfred came home one day followed by a man in a suit. His brother would shut himself away for hours before emerging with some new command for Alfred. Needless to say they were richer by half the next month.

As the school year approached Thomas decided that they weren't going back to normal academics. Alfred had an argument ready which was shot down as soon as Thomas opened his mouth. September came and he was receiving lessons from Alfred in the parlour room with Thomas. The work was hard but Bruce found he didn't mind so much. It was easier to get along with his brother when his mind was on other things.

October found Thomas in Bruce's room with a knife. Bruce's blood went cold and he made to retreat only to have Thomas advance. He was chased through the manor with his brother hunting him like a rabbit. Fear was strong as he tried to find a room to cut Thomas off at but another emotion was stronger. Hate. Hate that he was once again the victim. How dare his brother think he could treat Bruce like this. It was a mixture of these things that had him stopping and facing his brother.

Emerging from around the corner he didn't try running Bruce through. Instead he smiled proudly like Bruce had done something right and threw the knife away. Even more confused than normal and still feeling the adrenalin he charged his brother.

The scuffle didn't last long. A year older didn't mean anything when his brother had started growing taller and heavier "Why?" He eventually cried. Stuck under Thomas' heavy weight there was nothing more he could do.

"I saw something in you Bruce. You're exactly like me," He didn't think that should be a compliment "You're fed up of cowering and as you just showed me there, you're a fighter Bruce." He let him up "Which is why I want to ask if you want to partake in some other lessons. Ones that aren't controversial but make you feel like a victim no longer."

He was still frustrated but curious about how his brother was going to obtain this feat "What kind of lessons?"

They had a fencing instructor on Mondays who came to the manor at noon. Alfred thought it good that they were getting some exercise and allowed the man to return every Monday despite the fact that, if he knew, Alfred wouldn't have allowed this man anywhere near them. They didn't use foils for starters. Instead he threw them in the deep end with Katana's and made them fight until they were bloody. Thomas made it a rule that they shouldn't hit the face. It made their other rule that much easier to follow when they didn't have question's asked.

"We don't tell Alfred."

Tuesdays found a man with shady credentials teach them martial arts. Bruce didn't know what style it was and didn't really think there was a name. He, like the first, made them fight every lesson. They learned from their mistakes and he taught them new ways to incapacitate each other but he still made them fight. Without pads. Without helmets. Until one of them had knocked the other out.

"We don't tell Alfred."

Wednesdays saw a break in fighting which suited Bruce fine. By Wednesday he was usually in bed until noon and soaking in the bath until one. Then their next instructor came. He was a man trained in the forces but abandoned it to pursue a rather controversial life. He taught them about bombs, chemicals, anything that could be used as a weapon. There was no fighting but the fumes had Bruce coughing and screaming into the night.

"We don't tell Alfred."

Thursday was archery. Instead of doing this one alone like they usually did Thomas had the Queen boy come over and join them. It made Alfred happy that they were making friends and it gave him time to spend with adults. Oliver was fun in a dopey way. He made puns as often as he could and had a possessive streak that all spoiled kids did. For the first two lessons he made out like he was the best archer in the world. After those two he shut up about it and tried to prove it. Bruce turned out to have a natural affinity for targets. Better with knives than a bow he could still put up some competition for Queen. Two hours they stayed before duty called and the Queen's left to go back to Starling. After that their instructor had them shooting live targets he caught or decided needed shot down. Bruce was squeamish at first but soon dulled to the monotonous twang of the bow.

"We don't tell Alfred."

Friday they had Alfred's lessons as normal. They went to bed on time and waited for Alfred to fall asleep before sneaking out their windows and meeting their other instructor in the trees around their manor. This man was a hunter. He trained them in the art of detecting patterns and anomalies. Things people miss when they aren't looking. He usually had them stuck in a tree for hours until they could figure out all the details he wanted them too at a specific target. As they finally crawled back into their beds after hours of looking into the night Bruce couldn't help repeating his mantra.

"We don't tell Alfred."

Saturday had an actual instructor come and teach them something. It alternated every week so some days it was boxing and others it was Akido. The lessons weren't all that important, what turned out to be was the discipline it instilled. Thomas wanted the both of them to learn like this so everything else they did strived to perfection. And for once they were allowed to tell Alfred about their lessons.

Sunday was a day off for Thomas. He went into their father's old study and looked over Wayne Enterprises material for Alfred's submission. Bruce on the other hand was driven all the way down town for a gymnastics class.

"You need to be flexible," was Thomas' argument and although he was right come Sunday all Bruce wanted to do was curl up into his bed and sleep his hurt away.

The lessons never got easier as he turned eleven then twelve but he could see how he was progressing. No longer was he someone who cowered from a knife. Their instructors had drove away all fear and turned it into logical thinking.

Logical thinking that ended up getting him hurt one lesson. Bruce had noticed something over the years Alfred had started tutoring them which was that he was smarter than Thomas. A diagnosis revealed he had an eidetic memory and soon he sought other materials to read that weren't on Alfred's curriculum. He asked for language tutors and became quicker at identifying chemicals or patterns in their other lessons. Striving so far ahead of his brother he should have known that Thomas wouldn't take it as happily as Bruce was.

They were fighting with their long swords for Monday's lesson. A quick sidestep and Bruce lunged a scratch on Thomas' arm. His brother, instead of brushing it off as usual, fainted left and tripped Bruce's leg with a harsh blow. He was shocked at the force behind it, so shocked that he stupidly tried to take Thomas' blade off him. The metal cut his skin and his brother lunged again to catch him in the side. It was deeper than any cut they had done before and their instructor seemed to realise this. Calling an end to their session he rushed Bruce off to the side to make sure he didn't bleed out.

Thomas was panting in the middle of the room. Eyes wild but blinking back into the loving brother he was most of the time. It wasn't completely gone as Alfred came in to whisk the instructor off and Bruce was rather tentative to allow Thomas to help him to his room.

He finally knew what was bothering his brother when his clothes were gone and he was bathing in pink water "You're not better than me."

It was said so quietly Bruce didn't even think it had been said. He still reassured his brother regardless "I never said I was." The rage was boiling beneath the surface. Always there and sometimes overflowing. He could say no more to his brother and just hope that he realised that this was Bruce. This was the one person he saved that night instead of ridding him like their parents.

"I'm sorry," He had an armful of Thomas as the teens mood rapidly changed into remorse. "I could have really hurt you," He fingered the cut he made on Bruce's arm "I'll make it up to you," He promised.

Making it up to him turned out to be a secret lair. Thomas had been using some of his Sunday's to carve it out. The old clock in their father's study led to caves underneath the manor. They went on for miles but the main event was where Thomas took him. An open space down some stairs where equipment had been set up for Bruce.

"I love it," He really did.

"There's another reason I brought you down here," Bruce looked over to where his brother was wandering into the shadows. "See I had this idea a couple of months back when I went to a board meeting with Alfred. We were stuck in traffic and I saw this woman getting mugged," Thomas held no remorse for that woman. It was just a part of his story after all. "We were stuck long enough for me to see her be robbed, assaulted then left. The police hadn't turned up by the time we'd moved despite us being there for fifteen minutes."

"Why didn't you tell Alfred?" It was no secret their butler stood up for the down-trod if he could.

Thomas smiled "I knew you'd say that. But so many years of keeping secrets from the old man it just didn't seem right. But it got me thinking..." He tapped his head "I knew if you had been there you would have done something." Bruce nodded to Thomas' insinuation "Yeah because you're good like that. So I thought we should put our new skills to the test. Why not do something."

"I don't understand," Thomas had pulled out a tall blank case which he wheeled towards Bruce.

A snap of the wrist and the blank case wasn't blank. Inside was a Halloween costume. Some kind of cat mask with a cape and black boots. The rest of the suit wasn't nice to look at either. "I thought you might like to be a superhero."

He didn't know whether to laugh or yell for Alfred. The look on his brother's face had him staying still and complimenting Thomas' idea "Like the Green Lanterns? It's a good idea, I mean I like to help people. But I don't exactly have superpowers."

"You don't need them. We've been training for years. We've won championships and even street fights with our knowledge and skill. Any mugger or rapist won't stand a chance against us," It sounded appealing when Thomas said it like that. "Think Bruce. A chance to be the hero and not the victim."

He looked back at what Thomas had created "What's it meant to be?"

"A bat. Is my artistic genius that hard to tell?" He joked.

Bruce snorted "I'll do it. But I'm redesigning the suit."

"Fine. It'll just make mine look all the more cooler." Thomas' turned out to be way more cooler. A costume of silver and blue he was going to be called Owlman and Bruce had the unfortunate name of Batboy since he was "Just a kid. You can be 'man' when you get pubes."

He worked on the suit as a pet project until it was as he liked it. Four months after Thomas had shown him their lair they went out on the street for the first time. Although they stopped a mugger it turned out that being a hero was harder than it looked. For one they couldn't get to the crime in time. A stolen police scanner meant nothing when they got there too late because they had to run to the scene. Then there was the fact these criminals had no problem going for the face. It was their first priority with the second being a knife attack. Bruce had three close calls and Thomas even more when they got ganged up on.

They had to adapt to survive this new lifestyle and Bruce was more than willing to. He felt like he had found his calling. The satisfaction of helping people made Thomas stitching him up hurt less. When he was fourteen they had bought bikes and taught themselves to ride them. Bruce managed to take his apart and make it better, faster for the next time they were on the streets and so long as he did Thomas' his brother didn't have a problem with it. Fifteen and they had grappling hooks, batarangs, sonic devices. Bruce spent most of his time down in the caves inventing new gadgets for him and his brother.

Fifteen also brought about more new things. For example he realised he wasn't interested in girls. His brother was seventeen and the beloved darling of Gotham. Most mornings Bruce woke to women joining them at the table and it was then as their bra's hung low and thong's barely concealing themselves that he realised he had no interest. He figured he would grow into liking them later in life or that he was too mission orientated to notice right now and didn't make as much a deal of it as others would have.

At sixteen Thomas brought back another woman. This one wasn't like the others. For one she was engaged to be married and for another she was a meta. He'd heard stories about them but hadn't actually seen one until this woman Lois broke a hole in his brother's floor. Bruce was startled when he walked in on them both naked in the parlour room as Thomas' bed hung in parts through the hole and promptly left them to it. It wasn't until she became a frequent presence in their house that Bruce investigated her further.

Her name was 'Lois' by law but Bruce had examined her name against the woman who should have been Lois Lane and saw that this woman was merely impersonating her. She was engaged to a man who was simply called Ultraman. No alias' just Ultraman. He was vile to look at and even viler in person. A would be dictator that wanted to rope Bruce and Thomas into his maniacal scheme.

"No thank you," Bruce turned down and had gotten a concussion for his refusal.

He came around with Thomas promising that was the last he would see of them but Bruce had long since known when Thomas was lying.

Eighteen and Thomas never came out on patrol anymore. Bruce had given up trying to ask him since it just resulted in him being ignored for days on end. There was also the reason that, apart from Gotham, Owlman Superwoman and Ultraman had taken action into their plans.

Their image was plastered over everywhere they subdued and conquered. Metropolis had been made their base and Thomas spent most of his nights there than at the manor now.

It was his nineteenth birthday. Thomas hadn't been there all day and he'd spent the night in Gotham until three. Passing out on the sofa had been his plan but when he got there it seemed stupid not to walk all the way to his bed.

He wasn't alone. Thomas was sitting with a present wrapped neatly in his lap. Sprawled on Bruce's bed if he hadn't known Thomas had been gone he would have said he'd been waiting for him.

"Happy Birthday," He held the present out. Bruce glanced at it briefly and turned back to Thomas. There was something off about him. It took seconds for Bruce to place what.

"Are you high?" Years of beating down on addicts and dealers had given him a strong view on drugs. To think his brother-

"It's a stimulant. Nothing to worry yourself about," He waved off. Bruce noted his motor functions running as normal and still ignored the present Thomas was insisting into his hands "Take it."

"Why are you high?"

"I told you. Now just take your present and stop being so ungrateful," The box was thrust into his arms.

He chucked it to the floor "Ungrateful? I've spent the better half of my life trying to help people if anyone's ungrateful it's you. You turned your back on your city!"

Thomas scoffed "I'm trying to help our city."

"Is that what you call it? You promised me three years ago that you weren't going to see those people again and look at you now. You're a tyrant Tommy!" He held his jaw as his brother backhanded him.

"Ungrateful! That's what you are! And after everything I've done for you. I could have killed you along with our parents but I didn't. I thought if anyone would understand me it would be you! But look at you... I give you a city, a city I made them promise not to touch and what do you do? You dare call me ungrateful. Well you know what Bruce I think I might take it back. See how you fare against us," the drugs had turned Thomas' rages into something beyond what Bruce was used to. "Better yet why don't I take you out of the equation altogether. At least until you learn how much I've done for you."

Thomas went in for an attack which Bruce countered easily. What he wasn't expecting was the moves that followed. Years of fighting and working with Thomas meant he knew all of his moves. They had become predictable to him until tonight. It must have been the drugs.

"Not as smart now are you," Thomas growled and crushed his airways until he passed out.

Trained as he was he woke fast and found himself in a room he'd never seen before. People were in there with him but looking like they had seen better days. A middle aged couple were huddled in the corner next to a sleeping man. Further off from them was a woman who reminded Bruce of Superwoman. Unlike Lois this woman had a beauty that came soul deep. Worn down she still shone like a diamond and faced him with steely eyes that promised no remorse. Further down was a man shaking so much he looked like he blurred into three as another man tried to console him. Brown hair and a pilots jacket Bruce wondered what he'd done to incur his brother's wrath. Altogether there were at least twelve people stuck in the room and only one of them he recognised.

"Oliver?" The blonde perked up at the name only to glare daggers when he realised who was speaking to him.

"What are you doing here? There's no archery competitions for weeks," The joke was lame and he knew it.

"Thomas..." He could tell Oliver had no clue who put him in here and Bruce had the presence of mind not to get himself killed on the first day. "I upset Ultraman. I guess he doesn't like people standing up to him much."

"You can say that again," Another blonde scoffed.

"How long have you been in here?" He addressed to Oliver.

"A month I think. Ever since they took Star City," Oliver made a sweeping gesture "That's why we're all here. They took our cities and when we fought back they put us here."

"Why?" It didn't make sense.

"Because they're sick," Oliver spat. He was lucky he'd only just got on their bad side. Bruce had been edging that line every since he was granted Thomas' mercy.

He tried a different tactic "Who are these people?"

Oliver shrugged "Why don't you ask them." He returned to his huddled position. All the fight gone from him.

He decided the couple were probably the safest people to approach and made himself seem as none threatening as possible as he sat near them. The man they were huddled by turned out not to be asleep but passed out. In some sort of fever the couple took turns mopping up his sweat and cooing nothings in his ear.

"My name is Bruce," He offered with his hand.

"Jonathan. And this is Martha," He shook Bruce's hand "The other's don't like to talk much. Some of them have been... well it's not been nice." Bruce didn't want to know what that pause meant.

"My mother's name was Martha," He recalled.

Martha awed "Did one of those people..."

"Yeah," It was the truth "Owlman. He shot her and my father." He hoped Oliver wasn't listening in.

"I'm sorry," She rubbed his arm in apology "I can't imagine what that must have been like. Clark here was only threatened with our deaths and he lost it. I can see why they probably thought you a threat."

"He's your son?" They nodded. Bruce took a closer look at the man. Young like most of the people in there he had a startling resemblance to Ultraman. But like the woman on the opposite side of the room where Ultraman was cold and heartless he could see this man was more beautiful than anything Ultraman could fashion himself to be. "What's wrong with him?"

"It's these damn walls," The man hit the structure behind him "Our son has a bit of an allergy and those monsters knew about it. They've laced this whole place with it."

That was interesting. Why would they lace the place with whatever this man was allergic to? They had to have done it before capturing him which means they meant to keep him. But why?

"How long have you been here?" If they were the first ones then it meant this man was the key to his brother's plan with these people.

"We were the second ones to come here. After that lady over there," She was still glaring at him.

"Any idea why she's so hostile?"

"Apparently they took her home, just like they did ours. She yelled the first couple of days at the walls when we came before Clark took ill. Then she tried to help us nurse him back. He won't get better. Not here," Jonathan smiled kindly at the woman who still hadn't removed her gaze from him.

"First one?" The nodded. The first prisoner in this place. He wondered what the prison was like before they captured Clark. She could have seen her attackers. It would explain why she was walking over with a look intent to kill.


	2. Chapter 2

The woman had him by the neck, in a grip he wasn't escaping any time soon. "If you've come to break us then I assure you you'll break before you even try," she growled.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," he lied. One more response was probably all he would be able to choke out.

"I remember you. You thought I hadn't and came in here to infiltrate us!"

He would have no choice "He's my brother. I swear I'm just as much a prisoner as you! Please," he tried to alleviate the pressure but the woman was most likely a meta.

"Brother," the pressure left and he choked breath back on the ground. The woman had him back up by his shirt and hauled towards where the others were huddled together. "If you're lying..." she growled and threw him to the ground. "Listen comrades we have an advantage over these villains. Stupidly they imprisoned this man, most likely hoping he would keep his silence. But now his identity is revealed and it's something we can use. The one called Owlman, this is his brother. I've seen his face and the similarities between them are too great to even consider he's lying. So if that man wishes for his blood to come to of here alive he will face us like a warrior." she addressed that last loudly to Ultraman who was no doubt listening to everything they said.

"Thomas? I always knew there was something shifty about you two," Queen accused."So what did you do to get thrown in here huh? Did you botch one of his bombs? Or did you insist on killing us yourself?"

"That's enough!" the raised voices stopped at the command. A tired but determined Jonathan pushed his way through the crowd and stood protectively over Bruce. "I've taught my son since the day he came to us that everyone deserves a chance," he turned to Bruce "You said this man killed your parents is that the reason you're here?"

"His parents died when he was nine," Oliver cut in.

Jonathan glared and turned back to Bruce, still giving him a chance "Tommy's not well," his excuse was met with scoffs all around "He's not. He's taking something that's changed him. He didn't used to be this bad. Its Ultraman. Superwoman. That harpy has been manipulating my brother since he brought her back to the manor. When I confronted him about it and told him to stop he..." confessed to killing their parents and imprisoned Bruce in here. The thought that his worst fears had been confirmed made him sick. He felt himself shaking as all those nights thinking he'd been sleeping near a murderer became real. Before there was still the allowance for doubt. His brothers story could have been real but now?

"So you're in here because you revolted against him?" Jonathan confirmed "Just like the rest of us," his steely voice held no room for argument.

"He's ill," Bruce tried again but no one was listening.

"We can't use one of us as a bargaining chip," he concluded and although his grip wasn't as strong as the woman's he was able to grab Bruce and drag him back to his wife and son.

Most of the next couple of hours were something of a cold war. The woman, he overheard was named Diana, and she spent most of her time with the other prisoners on her side of the room eyeing up Bruce. Jonathan and Martha kept him safe with their disapproving looks and easygoing nature. After a while he took over mopping up Clark to give Martha a break and stretch her legs.

"It's a shame you're unconscious," he mumbled as the Kents went to form a truce with Diana "If my brother had to make you pass out to keep you here you must be something. But that's the thing isn't it. Why are you here? Why are any of these people here?"

The Kents came back with news that Diana wasn't going to beat him unconscious while he slept but still he didn't doze off until he turned Clark into a human shield. Waking still in that desolate room wasn't the best way to start the day. Clark hadn't moved at all which was slightly worrying. The blonde from the other side of the room was sitting with the Kents and barely glanced at Bruce as he sat up.

"...I worry what they're doing with my kingdom. If it were not for this accursed magic," he scowled.

"You're just going to have to hope for the best. That's all any of us can do," Martha comforted. "Mr Queen told me that they've turned Smallville into some kind of treatment facility. I dread to think what they've done to the farm," she worried.

A farm, it made sense he supposed. They looked like they spent a lot of time outdoors. "What are they planning?"

The blonde didn't respond so Bruce turned to see that they were all looking at him.

"I don't know," they had set up a few facilities around the world but nothing that showed anything damning. To be honest they hadn't done anything really but declare themselves government of those places. "Tommy doesn't spend a lot of time at home anymore. I'd thought he'd forgotten about me until he turned up last night." As he spoke a hidden door clicked open.

Swinging inwards an imposing figure blocked out any hope of escape. The front the rest of the rooms occupants were putting up were useless against this man and they knew it. Whatever was affecting them didn't seem to have the same on him.

Ultraman still strutted forward, pushing the others around to the wall before coming over towards himself and the Kents. He smirked nastily at the couple and hauled them around until they too were standing with their backs to the wall. Bruce glared just as nastily at Ultraman as he was at him but nothing more was done than a shove. His real prize was Clark. He kicked him around a while on the floor whilst the others looked on helpless. Escape was impossible since he was faster than any of them, not to mention his wife or soon to be wife anyway was blocking the light at the door.

"I think he's dead," The oaf near shouted.

"Of course he is if you keep kicking him about like that," Superwoman snapped. "Is he still able to wake up?"

"No," He grunted after slapping Clark around again. Mrs Kent was near sobbing at this point.

"For God's sake," Bruce turned at the familiar tone and saw his brother strutting into the room. His suit had been upgraded from last Bruce had saw it. Metallic and shining it was a stark contrast to the gritty one he used to wear in Gotham. Thomas drew up close to Ultraman, short in comparison and oddly weak to look at. But Bruce knew that if it came to a matter of life and death that his brother would be able to rid the world of Ultraman. He startled slightly as he caught sight of Bruce. Abandoning Clark he near ran towards him "What the hell are you doing here?"

"You put me here," Bruce spat "Or were you too high to remember my birthday?"

"I-" He turned to Ultraman "Did I?" The big man shrugged as he toed an obviously broken hand. "I don't remember. Oh God, I swear-"

"Save it," Thomas pulled his cowl off knowing as well as Bruce did that the room had his identity "Now what are these people doing here?"

A scowl came over his brothers features as he looked about the room. It was like he was seeing the occupants for the first time. Most likely true since his pupils were the right size. "They're here because... it doesn't matter. Come on, let's get you home. I'll make it up to you. A nice dinner and I'll even buy you that new sword you've been eyeing."

"Presents won't fix the fact that you have people held for ransom in here Tommy!" He evaded the hand grabbing for him.

"Bruce don't speak of things you don't know about. Now come on," He managed to get a firm grip on Bruce's arm and started pulling him towards the door.

"If you think I'm going to keep quiet about-"

"Yes you're going to keep quiet about this," Thomas hissed "You know why? Because if you don't then I'll tell Alfred. I'll tell him what a disappointment you've been. Going behind his back and hiring assassins to teach you to fight. Sneaking out every night so you can dress like a psycho and beat people up. You'll keep quiet if you don't want to see _that_ look on the only person we have left. That look of how pathetic you are. How worthless. How he should have just left you there in that alley," every word he spoke drove daggers into Bruce's heart. Alfred was the only person he counted as true family. The man didn't know about this side of their lives and most often than not Bruce was glad. The alternative meant everything Thomas had just said. His resistance weakened and Thomas only had one nod to Ultraman and a command "Insurance," before he was out of that room.

He didn't know where he was. As soon as his feet were out of the room that vile woman was in front and knocking him unconscious.

He woke draped in silk with warm cookies and breakfast calling outside of his room. His neck hurt from where he was knocked out but years of being in pain had him ignoring it in favour of food.

Alfred was in the kitchen talking with a business fresh Thomas. There was no hint towards what had happened on his person. He looked like he had every other Sunday since he was fifteen. Alfred on the other hand had circles under his eyes and smothered Bruce the only way he knew how when he saw him.

Food was piled up in mountains. All his favourites with questions for more itching on the old man's lips. Thomas had barely touched his own plate and instead was eyeing him with a warning in his baby blues.

"Shall I take some up for our guest Master Thomas?" Guest? Thomas didn't think the added occupant was odd. Most likely it was Superwoman continuing her dalliance with him.

"No. If he wakes just get Bruce to do it and phone me right away," Ultraman maybe?

"Very good sir," He hovered behind Bruce's chair whilst he ate and refilled his glass as soon as a sip was taken.

Thomas finished what little he had eaten and clapped Bruce on the shoulder as he passed "Make sure you open my present. And dinner tonight so wear something fancy. Don't even think about skipping out on me again, you nearly gave poor Alfred a heart attack when you didn't come home yesterday. Too much partying if you ask me," He joked with Alfred. The man's face didn't move but then it never did much when dealing with Thomas.

"I'll make sure he's ready," Alfred promised. He didn't even offer to walk Thomas to the door. Bruce even worse about confronting Thomas now. They waved goodbye and Alfred refilled his drink as the front door slammed. Two more minutes of silence and then Bruce was being harshly spun around and pulled apart as Alfred looked at his face "You're not hurt?"

"No," Alfred didn't believe him until he had looked at Bruce from every angle.

"I thought something had happened to you," Alfred accused. In his accusation there was a hint or suggestion. He seemed to be waiting for Bruce to tell him what had happened "Waking up to discover that not only is Master Thomas gone but you..."

"I'm fine," Bruce reassured. If there was one thing he was certain of it was that Thomas wouldn't have done anything too harsh to him. "Honestly. Now who's this guest we have?"

He was eager to find out what was going on in the manor. Especially when this questioning had Alfred going pale "A friend of yours Master Thomas said. He wants him looked after until healthy before his parents come and pick him up," There was that tone again. Bruce had the odd feeling that they weren't as stealthy as they thought they were in the manor. "First door on the second floor," He pointed up.

The dismissal was followed with a plate of cookies that he munched on through his forbearer's hallways. The room Thomas had chosen for their guest was closed off from the gardens. Hardly any light was shed in through the curtains which was saying something since there was hardly any light in Gotham at all.

Framed in luxurious materials was the Kent's son Clark. He was asleep but looking better than what he had in their prison. His skin wasn't damp with sweat and his breaths were noticeable as he inhaled. What little strength he had regained was fast since the last Bruce had saw him, hours ago, he'd been near death.

"Can we not move him?" He asked. Alfred had slunk up behind him as he made a tour of their guest's room. It seemed the butler wasn't content with letting Bruce out of his sight today.

"Where to? Master Thomas thought the light would disturb him if we placed him in one of the other rooms," So sunlight factored into this.

"I think some light would be beneficial to his condition. After all I always feel better when I go outside," Alfred seemed to agree with him but to disobey Thomas meant siding with Bruce. The man always had a hard time pitting his loyalty to one brother. "At least for an hour or so? Tommy doesn't need to know," He tried. Alfred nodded.

As they moved Clark into a room sunnier than the last Bruce wondered how he had never noticed Alfred's bias. When they were younger he would be the one to read to him whilst his parents dealt with Thomas. Maybe it was the fact that the second son always got palmed off to someone that had them bonding more than Thomas and Alfred had. After all the butler never behaved this protectively when Thomas went missing for a day.

He stayed in the room with Clark, as did Alfred. The butler went about cleaning the spotless room for an excuse and when he tired of that brought snacks and a book to read. Clark seemed to come alive in the sunlight. His skin took on a golden sheen as all paleness left. Bruises that had developed from Ultraman's maltreatment were fading and the broken wrist gave Bruce a fright when it snapped back into place.

"He looks remarkably like that Ultraman fellow," Alfred said. Bruce glanced sideways to see the Butler eyeing the recovering Clark.

"Better in my opinion. If you ask me that thug hasn't got even a tenth of Clark's charm," it was probably his hatred of Ultraman that had him seeing Clark so angelically. Anything was better than him. "We'd best put him back," Alfred nodded.

Back in the dark room Bruce was happy to note that Clark didn't return to his half starved state. Apart from still being asleep it looked like he was only hours away from being fully recovered. Truthfully Bruce didn't know if that was good or bad news.

He let Alfred pamper him until Thomas came back. The study door slamming had both of them wincing since it always signalled something not going his way.

"Stay here Master Bruce," Alfred ordered and went up to meet his brooding brother. He returned after something fragile broke loudly upstairs and returned to his seat as calmly as he left "I spoke with Thomas. Told him you were looking a bit under the weather. I hope it's alright that you stay in tonight?"

Bruce smiled "Thank you," An angry Thomas was no company. An angry Thomas who Bruce knew was a murderer would mean one of them wouldn't be coming out of that restaurant alive.

Thomas didn't come out of his room until midnight. With no reprieve and too much going on at the manor Bruce hadn't had time to go patrolling. Instead he made it his mission to stay out of Thomas' way as much as possible.

Locking his doors before he slept seemed like such a childish thing to do. Thomas could break through them easily. The only reason they would remain locked when they were younger was because there was an unspoken agreement between them. But imprisoning someone changes things. Locked doors meant nothing now but still Bruce did it to make himself feel better.

He had checked on Clark before going to his room. The man was still out and Bruce hoped he stayed that way until Thomas left again tomorrow.

As for now Bruce contented himself trying to get an early night. The knife he clung under his pillow helped him drift off.

Instinct had his hand flailing out. Knife striking before his mind woke and hand was caught by Thomas.

"You locked your door," He accused. The lack of light made his eyes black. There was no question as to whether he was high again.

"I wanted to sleep," He sat up and snatched his hand back from the firm grip Thomas had on it "Still do."

His brother reached for something at the end of the bed and thrust it onto Bruce's lap "You still haven't opened it," he'd forgotten about it and told his brother so. "Well open it now. I wanna see the look on your face."

The childish glee should have clued him in but Bruce was tired and sick of his brother. He wanted him out of his room as soon as possible so if opening his present was what it took... He didn't touch it. The gun and bullets lying within.

"It's the same one," Thomas grinned and handled the gun so familiarly it was like it was yesterday he had shot their parents. "I managed to swipe it from the evidence locker. Figured it would make a good birthday gift if I finally got rid of your fear of it," he loaded the bullets in and pulled Bruce to his feet. Gun shoved into his hands he forced him to raise it up "Just aim and shoot."

"Let go of me," He wasn't proud that his voice wavered.

Struggling did no good. The drug was doing its best to make sure his brother was stronger than him. "Come on Bruce it's not that hard. We'll laugh about it later."

"I said let go!" He tried dropping the gun but his brother just kept one arm tied securely around him and picked it back up.

"Honestly you're such a baby. I'm trying to help you like any good big brother would do. Once you shoot it you'll feel much better. I promise you, no more nights screaming like a girl into your pillow. Now just point," He had the gun firmly attached to Bruce's hand. The gun that was the star in most of his nightmares.

"Tommy no!" He wasn't proud to admit there were tears blurring his vision. His fingers were on the trigger and roughly pressed down.

Bruce had been patrolling Gotham for years as Batboy and now Batman. He'd been stabbed and shot at thousands of times. He'd disarmed and destroyed guns and barely flinched when the sound that replayed over and over in his head went off at him. But this wasn't an ordinary gun and this time it was him who was holding it. His scream was almost as loud as the gunshot as the scene from years ago played out in his head. Gunshots then waking as an orphan.

He didn't hear as the bullet never made impact with the wall. Nor felt it when he fell to the ground because his only support was thrown through a window. All he could see was blood and the gun that was the cause of it. The gun that now had his fingerprints on.

He threw up what Alfred had fed him through the day and sat there shaking. His limbs were frozen and wouldn't obey him even when his mind was screaming at him to get up and face Thomas.

The gun was removed from his sight but a ghost image was left in its place. Every time he closed his eyes he saw it. It and nothing else.

A couple of hours passed and a couple more before he calmed. Bits of reality were pushing through the haze of his trauma. Like the smooth accented baritone reading him his favourite Sherlock Holmes story. The shaking hadn't left as his sight showed him the warm parlour room he was curled up in. Wrapped in blankets with the fire roaring and fresh muffins on the table.

Now that his mind was back in control it begged of him to take stock of his surroundings properly. Home at Wayne Manor with Alfred with no Thomas in sight. Ultraman's better looking double was there. Awake and watching him worriedly.

He tried to piece together what happened after he broke down. Thomas left. He left Bruce somehow but he couldn't remember. Even thinking about what had happened had his stomach roiling.

"You're alright Master Bruce. Thomas has gone for the time being," Spite was high in his tone even as Alfred reassured and helped him sit up.

"He won't be gone long," This was his home by birthright. Bruce and Alfred were just squatters for the time being. Alfred handed him a muffin and a glass of water. Pampering starting as soon as Bruce could grasp his cup on his own. "He'll probably bring _them_ back with him as well."

"Yes but for now you need to calm down. All questions can be pushed back a bit I think," He smothered Bruce with another muffin.

He did as he was told. Arguing with Alfred was never wise and even less recommended when in shock. The night passed with little sleep and the only time he was left alone was when Alfred went to make breakfast.

Well, he was away from Alfred anyway "When did you wake up?" Clark looked better. He looked vibrant, so healthy it seemed impossible to associate him with illness and the image Bruce had first been given.

"I heard you shouting," he spoke with an accent like his parents. A country boy with too many manners and too polite to say what he really wanted to right away. "I'm sorry I couldn't wake up and stop him earlier."

"It's fine, you got there in the end," Clark didn't look too happy with being given the hero role to last night "Really. Thomas has done much worse than that anyway," He tried.

Clark just nodded "Alfred told me."

"What has Alfred told you?" How much did Alfred know? How much did Clark know for that matter? Did he know that Thomas was Owlman?

Clark sighed and stood "It doesn't matter right now. I need to go help Alfred with your breakfast so scream if there's trouble."

From Clark's avoidance of the subject it seemed like they both knew more than what Bruce initially thought.

Breakfast was one way Alfred liked to show off for guests. He pulled out all the stops in making Bruce's favourites once again and piled on enough food for him and Clark to feed an army. Clark gazed at him oddly all through their meal. Bruce wished he could read minds to know what he was thinking or even just to figure him out. Thomas found him fascinating for a reason and if Bruce knew then he could find a way to help Clark.

He confronted him when Alfred took his temperature "If you have something to say then say it."

Clark started but responded "It's just that it's odd to see you. You're so similar and not to your brother."

"I could say the same with you and your parents," He retorted and realised his mistake when Clark's eyes went wide.

"You've seen them? Where? How are they?" He demanded.

Bruce glanced at Alfred. "I can't say." If he did then it was one more reason for Thomas to reveal his secret.

All his response got was a tug on the ear by Alfred "Honestly Master Bruce if you know about his parents then tell him. Whatever Thomas has over you should be nothing compared to it."

"But I don't want you to hate me," He muttered.

Alfred sighed "I'm going to tell you something I probably should have a long time ago. You have no secrets from me Master Bruce." Elaborating he pulled Bruce's sleeve up "Did you think I wouldn't notice you bleeding through your clothes. To be honest I thought it was bullies at first. Prayed it was Master Thomas and yourself rough housing second. But then those outfits turned up in the newspaper..."

"You've known?" All this time?

"You're not as smart as you think you are," Alfred reprimanded and swiftly turned on him "Now that there's nothing between us I think it best you tell this boy about your incarceration."

"How do you know about that?"

"It wasn't hard to deduce. Thomas turning up late and then you going missing. That boy has always been unstable but I always hoped..." He rapped Bruce on the head and repeated his earlier command sending Bruce into an account of his short stay in Thomas' prison.

"...I don't know why they're there," He finished

"It does seem odd," Alfred agreed.

Clark just seemed confused "What's odd? They're dictator's. They're imprisoning people who stand up against them, it's what they do."

"Actually, what they do is kill people," Bruce explained "Ultraman could have had you all murdered in a heartbeat but my brother wanted you alive. There's something else going on. I mean he had you brought here because you were almost dead. Why revive you?"

Clark didn't seem to have any answers either. All they knew was they had to find a way to get everyone else out before it was too late.


End file.
